Fallout
by bluejay
Summary: Shooting Bruce Wayne's son is always a bad move. Lenore is about to find out how bad. Sequel to 'Misrouted.'
1. Dick

Disclaimer: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne belong to DC.  
>Wilbur Dernell, Aaron Lansing, Lenore Group, First Centennial Savings Bank, and the Blood Dragons are mine.<br>Notes: Follow-up to 'Misrouted'; because it needed a sequel of sorts. And if anyone wants to see the fanart I mentioned in this fic: deviantart dot com/art/Robin-s-Daddies-190594922

It took months for the investigation in First Centennial to finish. The misrouted funds were returned to their proper destinations, the bank's organization went into a massive overhaul with changes in authorizations, and a stricter policy of non-acceptance of second-endorsed checks went into effect.

It was all kept quiet, of course. Fearing the panic that might be caused if the scandal was leaked, the bank president decided to give only the barest facts to the media; frequently reassuring the public that what happened was an isolated incident and that the bank is doing everything it can to rectify the error.

It was treated as an embarrassing mistake; one that was easily fixed as evidenced by the quick restoration of normal operations. The bank's investors had even decided to stick through the crisis and thereby allowed the bank to maintain its profitability. Unfortunately, not everyone could return to normal as easily.

Dernell's family had suffered the same fate as the former bank executive: poison pellets in the mouth. Police had found them in the living room; their bodies already gone cold. Their neighbors were shocked, and rumors ran high in the socialite circles. Dernell was known as a man who had made it: he was a nine-to-five worker who moved up to VIP status in two decades. Now it was being said that he resorted to illegal means to gain success so quickly.

Rumors had it that he wasn't the only one Lenore had gotten its hands on.

That didn't make Bruce happy and he stepped up his investigations into the Lenore Group. He had Dick – while recuperating – build up a case as Batman and Red Robin chased down leads.

Oracle was especially vicious in her search. She hated that something like this had gotten past her, and she hated even more that they had so casually shot Dick. She hacked into bank records, telecom records, police records; she even hacked into government files.

And all that research now led to this.

"Blood Dragons?" Dick repeated as he scanned the information on the screen. "I thought we broke them up years ago."

"We did." Bruce grunted and brought up a file of the gang's known members. "But only in Gotham. They've been active in other cities since, with Lenore's backing. They're reputedly armed with high-powered, expensive weapons - weapons that should only be supplied to military."

"So they've got friends in high places." Dick mused.

"Or they simply have a near unlimited source of laundered money."

"Wait, what's that?" Tim asked, pointing at one of the photos associated in the file.

Dick leaned forward to take a closer look. His eyes widened in recognition and he dropped back in his chair, a reddish tinge to his cheeks. "It's nothing. And I thought you'd gotten rid of that." The last was directed towards his adoptive father.

"It must have been Alfred." The billionaire muttered, pointedly not meeting his stare.

Tim glanced back and forth from Dick's blushing to Bruce's averted gaze. When he realized neither of the two were about to answer, he reached out and typed the commands to zoom into the photo.

Seconds later, an old newspaper article appeared on the screen. It included a black and white photo of a very young Dick, dressed as Robin, holding hands with Batman _and Superman_. The small caption read, 'Robin's Daddies."

Tim burst out laughing. "This was on the news? H-how?"

Dick's blush deepened. "It was a long time ago; when I was still Robin. I was chasing a couple of Blood Dragons through a condemned building. One of them had managed to get his hands on a grenade and tossed it on the floor in front of me. I ducked behind cover but the floor gave way. I think that was one of the few times I scared Bruce."

"I was in the next building, following." Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. "I heard the grenade exploding; then all I could see was over ten floors of steel and concrete crumbling to the ground."

"The perps I chased were buried. They died in the hospital days later."

"You nearly shared the same fate."

" 'Nearly.'" Dick grinned at his adoptive father. "I'm still here, Bruce. I still grew up."

Bruce gave a half-smile in answer.

Tim was awestruck. Despite everything that happened to him, despite the tragedies he had to go through, he'd always idolized the original Batman and Robin. Listening to past cases narrated by his idols themselves made him feel like he was five years old again and hearing of the Dynamic Duo's exploits.

He turned to his older brother. "And you? How'd you get out?"

"I had help." Dick gestured at the screen. "Superman was passing by to discuss a case with Bruce when he heard the explosion. He grabbed me before I got buried." He ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I was a goner that time too."

"And the media?"

"They were shooting a human interest story nearby." Bruce answered. "The cameraman got lucky."

"Clark thought it was funny." Dick offered.

"_He _would." The billionaire grumbled.

"Then what happened?" Tim asked eagerly.

Dick opened his mouth to reply when Damian stalked into the room. The ten-year-old - his uniform torn and dirty in places - barely acknowledged them before he made a beeline for the scanners. He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and shoved it into the microscope.

"Counterfeit?" Dick grabbed his crutch and limped towards his youngest brother.

"Gang war on Fifth and Mulberry. Between the Street Dogz and a red lizard gang."

Bruce frowned at the mention of the street names. "What were you doing on Mulberry?"

"Meeting a contact."

"Colin Wilkes." Dick explained. "AKA Abuse."

"And the 'red lizard'?" Tim asked, recalling the tattoo the Blood Dragons sported.

"The raiding gang had a red lizard tattooed on their arms." Damian waved a hand at the screen displaying the Dragons' insignia, not turning his head from his project. "Similar to that, only this was done by an amateur."

"A copycat?" Tim said thoughtfully.

"Or an initiate." Bruce added.

Damian huffed in frustration and pushed away from the magnifier. "I don't see how the newbies got all this money. They look genuine to me."

"Let me," Dick took the magnifier and held it a few inches above one corner of the bill. "This one's a fake."

"Grayson, if you are playing jokes…"

"No joke, Dami." He ruffled his youngest brother's hair with a smile. "In this series of bills, there's supposed to be a tiny hair on the corner. If it's not there, the bill's counterfeit."

"But the paper and ink used-" Tim interrupted.

"It's a Super-dollar." Bruce explained for Dick. "The paper and inks used to print the counterfeits are the same used for another nation's currency. That's why it looks and feels like the genuine article." He turned to his eldest. "Where did you learn about the hair?"

"One of the Bludhaven cops in Financial Crimes taught me that," He grinned, "along with a few other techniques."

"Hn." The billionaire grunted and turned back to Damian. "Report."

The newest Robin snorted at his father's commanding tone. He crossed his arms sullenly and Dick half-feared the boy would refuse to answer. But to the acrobat's relief, Damian recounted his experience. "Wilkes had been suspecting something when he saw several street toughs meet up with a hooded man. Two days later, they raided Street Dogz territory armed with semi-autos and hundreds of bullets."

Tim's eyes went wide as Bruce's expression hardened. It wasn't new for the Blood Dragons to have expensive guns to use for their activities; but for a mob that wealthy and big, inciting a gang war with a small gang should be beneath its notice. And even if they gave the task as an initiation rite, they wouldn't allow their recruits to display any sort of insignia in case of failure.

Something wasn't adding up.

Bruce decisively turned on his heel. It was no longer the billionaire but the original Batman who headed for the bathroom to change, deep voice calling over his shoulder, "Tim, suit up."

Damian moved to follow the two when Bruce added, "Not you, Damian."

"But, Father-"

"No buts. Stay here and help Dick look into the Blood Dragons in Gotham."

Damian huffed and stalked over to the computers.

Dick watched his youngest brother for a while before limping over. "It's not that bad, Dami. I'm glad to have company around."

The kid clicked his tongue sullenly. "You had better recover faster, Grayson. Because the only way Father will let me patrol is with you."

"I'm sure Bruce would-"

"Don't patronize me! Father was clear when he said I'm not good enough for him. And I refuse to work with Drake."

Dick sighed, putting a hand on the chair. After all this time he had hoped his two younger brothers would get along better. Apparently, it didn't hold true. "Actually, Bruce never said that. You're plenty good enough, kiddo. It's just that..."

"...that he can't trust me?" Damian's voice was soft, softer than his usual mocking tone.

"...that you haven't gotten used to each other, that's all." He smiled at the boy. "Bruce and I...we clashed sometimes - okay, _most_ of the time - but we made it work. We practiced, we trained, but we worked. Maybe..."

Damian spun the chair to face him, interrupting his speech. "Quit lying to yourself, Grayson. Father and I, we would never be as close as you were." Then he returned to the computer, signaling the end of their discussion.

Dick sighed again, "Dami..."

"Grayson."

He paused at the boy's reluctant tone.

"I will only say this once. But you and I...you aren't bad for a partner."

Dick grinned and ruffled the boy's hair, ignoring the death glare he got in return. "Thanks, little D. So, let's find out who's pulling the strings on this Blood Dragon gang."


	2. Tim

Red Robin followed in Batman's wake, one goal clear in their minds. Jim Gordon had already been contacted of their interest in the gang war participants and he had the raiding gang's leader ready for them.

It wasn't the first time Tim tagged along on an interrogation. But he was mostly worried of Bruce's emotions at this point. Guns had always been a very sore spot with the older vigilante, ever since that night. Giving high-end semi-autos and powerful bullets to the common thug just prodded at that sore spot. And that was what these raiders were mostly - thugs, bullies, street toughs - men with a lot of swagger and not much else.

Brian "Bulldog" Mendelson was no exception.

"I ain't crackin' Bats. You can save your breath for somebody else." The gang leader sneered.

"You were seen contacting a hooded man two nights ago." Batman intoned in his gravel-voice. "Who was the hooded man?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? I ain't tellin'."

Bulldog was confident. Not a sign of nervousness anywhere. He's really bought into the whole scheme and not letting go without a fight. His kind of devotion would be admirable for any gang, but Tim figured the Dragon's recruiter wasn't looking for blind devotion.

It was almost a pity to have to burst Bulldog's bubble.

"Have you tried actually spending the money they paid you?" Red Robin spoke up.

Bulldog blinked in confusion. "Whut?"

"The money the hooded man paid you to raid the Street Dogz. Have you used any of it?"

Bulldog frowned. Suspicion began to wrinkle his forehead. "Whut you saying?"

"We checked the bills." Batman stated. "Fake."

For a moment, Bulldog could only stare in disbelief. Then he started shaking his head. "No, no, you lyin'! Those were good money! Money that's gonna buy me-!"

"-an extended sentence in Blackgate, and the enmity of the Street Dogz." Batman finished for him. "You were paid fake money, given enough bullets to make the police suspicious, and left to wallow in jail when you were caught." He leaned forward. "You were played."

Bulldog kept shaking his head. "It was a test. A _goddamn_ test!"

"A test for who?"

The man's gaze dropped to the table in front of him. Red Robin could see he was thinking over his situation and Tim suppressed a triumphant smirk. Then Bulldog glanced up, anger was now smoldering in his dark eyes. _Bingo_.

"A.L. said he was Lenore. Was looking for recruits, wanted to know if I wanted in. Told us our space's too small and to grab them Dogz's place."

"A. L." Batman repeated.

Bulldog nodded. "That's what he told us to call him. Bet it was fake too."

_Huh. _Red Robin mulled over what Bulldog said. From the sounds of it, this A.L. person enticed some gullible street toughs to make trouble on a rival territory. The targeted territory wasn't important. He just basically walked up to some gang, gave them weapons, and told them to go crazy. But what was the point?

Just then, Oracle's voice came over the comms, "Heads up, guys. Police scanner lit up like crazy. There's multiple gang wars reported all over downtown."


	3. Red Robin

It took most of the night for Batman and Red Robin to deal with the four or so gang wars that erupted. The story was the same in every scene: a group of street toughs were armed and paid to challenge a rival gang. They were all paid in Super-dollars.

Tim didn't like the way these fights broke out all at once. It felt too orchestrated; like someone pulling strings to...what?

"We're missing something," he murmured.

"I agree." Batman said beside him. "We're being kept busy."

"To tire us out?"

"Possibly."

Tim shook his head. "But what would that gain him? It doesn't make sense."

Batman started to reply when their comms chimed.

_"Cave Bat to Big Bat."_

Tim fought off a smile as Bruce's lips thinned before growling out, "What is it?"

_"It took some doing but," _Tim could imagine Dick's proud grin,_ "we found the head honcho."_

"Report."

_" Guy's got as much fronts as we've got safehouses. But R, here, figured it out. "_

A younger voice came on. _"It was only numbers. No bank would have that much in investments and still turn a moderate profit."_

Tim's eyes widened. "You mean...?"

_"Fictitious accounts. From what we can tell, these accounts were made by seven people - all authorial figures in three major banks. One of them was Wilbur Dernell."_

"And the others?" Tim asked.

_"Still being traced."_ It was Dick's voice. _"Different banks, different policies. First Centennial was easy in that they sent 'Thank You' letters to their new clients. Unfortunately, Dernell had enough clout to cover up the returned letters."_

Batman interrupted. "You said you have a name?"

_"Yep. Crays just got back with an address too. It's Aaron Lansing. Recently arrived at Gotham and staying in the Legacy Hotel."_

"A.L." Tim grinned, feeling a puzzle piece click in place.

Batman grunted beside him. "Good work, you two. And one more thing."

_"Yeah?"_

"Choose something more appropriate than 'Big Bat'."

Whatever comeback Dick might have said didn't come through as Bruce abruptly cut the connection. Batman gave a nod to Red Robin and they both swung towards the Legacy Hotel.

They were three blocks away when their comms emitted a unique alarm.

Tim felt his mind freeze when he realized what the alarm meant.

"Batman to the Cave." Bruce's voice was calm and Tim stifled the icy fear in his gut. "Come in, Cave. Dick?"

Nothing.

The ice was a block in his stomach as Batman turned to him. "Continue for the Legacy. I'll check with the Cave."


	4. Dick Again

Dick had gone for a snack when the lights flickered.

He quickly set down his sandwich and hobbled for the grandfather clock but Damian met him there.

"Dami! What happened?"

"Intruders." The current Robin grabbed his arm and started dragging him out of the study. Dick hopped as best he could with a crutch while Damian continued. "Our security measures are compromised. Pennyworth is engaging what we have left in reserve but sensors have detected at least six slipping past the nets."

Dick cursed when the crutch slipped, forcing him to lean on his youngest brother. "We have to contact Bruce and Tim-"

Damian grunted. "The remote alarm in their suits is set to alert them during a loss in Manor security signal. We can assume they already know and are on their way back." He gave Dick a challenging stare. "Are you presuming that Batman and Robin couldn't handle six trespassers?"

"...If they've managed to get past Bruce's defenses, I'd rather have backup."

Damian looked thoughtful as he considered. "The panic room's monitors are linked to the Manor's defenses as well as the cameras."

"Good idea. We can help Alfred man the cannons."

Damian made his usual derisive sound and silently supported Dick. The former Robin glanced down at his younger brother, noticing his silence. While Damian was known to keep quiet during cases, it was highly unusual for him not to throw a derogatory comment against the former Robin's bad jokes. For him to be silent meant that he was planning something.

Dick opened his mouth to needle his brother but a pained gasp came out instead. His healing leg had suddenly flared up with pain - he hoped he hadn't torn his stitches.

Damian huffed at the former Robin's slow pace. "The panic room isn't far, Grayson. Surely you could take a few more steps."

"Is that supposed to be encouragement?"

The current Robin didn't answer in favor of speeding up their progress.

Dick entered the panic room first, his eyes trained on the computers that allowed remote access to the Manor's defenses. He was too busy setting things up he didn't notice he was alone until the click of a lock engaging made him look up to scan the room. Sparse but comfortable furnishing and an empty room greeted him.

"Oh hell no..." He stared at the shut door, feeling like an idiot.

Damian had locked him in.


	5. Damian

Damian gave a self-satisfied grunt the moment he locked the door. It was too easy to trick the second Batman - a probable result of the man's trusting nature. That was a weakness the new Robin would have to lecture out of Grayson. But for now, there were intruders in the family Manor.

Speaking of which...

"Good evening, young Wayne."

He slowly turned to face the cultured voice - and the number of rifles pointed at him. The man who spoke was neatly dressed, as though he was about to enter a business meeting; but the others were dressed in ratty camouflage outfits. Their faces were all covered by ski masks and sported familiar tattoos on their arms. Damian knew, even without a closer look, that the tattoos would be complex versions of the ones he had found inciting the gang wars.

The men facing could only be part of the Blood Dragons - and their leader: Aaron Lansing.

"You wouldn't happen to know where your older brother is, would you?" asked Lansing, still in that erudite voice Damian wanted to strangle into silence. The man was a mockery of the aristocracy he runs in.

Damian's scowl deepened. "You are intruding in my father's house. Leave now."

"Or...what?" The gang leader smirked, eliciting chuckles from his servants. "You are one boy against seven adults, six of whom are armed. If you would dole out threats, do so when you have an advantage. As such, your warning is just...cute."

Damian bristled. He was _not _'cute'. And only Grayson is allowed to call him such. "It is not a threat if I am stating facts."

"Oh? Then where's your advantage?"

"You are a fool if you think I would reveal my hand early."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. But as much as I am amused, I'm on a schedule." He made a gesture towards Damian. "Take him. A young kid would be as compelling to our target as an injured son."


	6. Bruce

The Batmobile's dash lit up at an incoming signal from the Cave. Bruce acknowledged the comms, refusing to entertain any thought of either worry or relief. He'll reserve that for later, as soon as he finds out the situation.

Instead of Dick however, Alfred's face came on the screen, heavily disrupted by static.

"Alfred. What happened."

"Intruders, sir. Sensors detected at least six and they have disrupted the system connecting to the Cave. I have been able to reactivate the defenses for the grounds proper, but I remain blind to the Manor."

"Where's Dick?"

"Master Dick, as well as Master Damian, I am uncertain of."

Batman tightened his grip on the wheel. He didn't like not knowing what's happening. But he had to trust his boys that they could take care of themselves. He had to put faith in their training. "Five minutes. Batman out."

He closed the connection, sure that when...if something happens, Alfred would call him back.

There were numerous bodies over the lawn. Batman recognized the work of his electrical defense grid on the lawn - one of the better security measures he had installed after the League of Assassins came. Any person it detected would be hit with an electrical charge strong enough to knock an average person unconscious, but weak enough not to kill.

But if someone wore an insulated suit, the charge could easily be shrugged off. The six intruders must be wearing protective suits to get past the grid.

He was about to move past the lawn when something on the would-be intruder's arm caught his eye. There was a small patch of stain on the upper arm - lights on the lawn were enough to show that it was dark red and shaped like a lizard. Or a dragon.

Batman reached up to his comms. "Red Robin, abort. Head to the Manor now."

He was running for the Manor even before Tim replied. Batman knew those tattoos. He had seen them years before, during one of the more stressful nights in his crusade. And that night, he had made it a priority to get rid of that tattoo's presence in his city.

But now they were in his home. This invasion he won't allow.


	7. Batman

He found them in the wrecked foyer. Damian was glaring at two of the thugs, their rifles pointed at him. Four more of the thugs were already stretched out on the floor. Batman guessed the boy proved to be more than these Dragons expected and their bruises would serve as a painful reminder of their folly.

But Alfred mentioned there were at least six. And Batman didn't think these thugs would be trusted enough to be sent on their own. So where was-

There was movement deeper into the Manor. A nondescript man in a business suit stepped into the foyer, looking up from his watch. He glanced at each of the gang members and frowned. "Are you done yet? We're running out of time."

Damian scoffed. "Then maybe you should leave. Even unarmed, I can handle all of you."

The man's expression became even more irritated. "Just shoot him and carry him. The Bat should know by now that something's up."

One of the thugs snorted. "How? We messed up the signals with your thing before we went in."

"It's the Bat. There's no overestimating his abilities."

"But you said-"

"Forget it! Shoot him now!"

Years of practice had Batman grabbing and flinging a batarang in less than a second. He would not allow another shot taken at one of his sons; not in his house, and not while he could do something about it.

The projectile sliced through one armed thug's wrist before embedding itself on another's hand.

He was moving even before both weapons hit the ground. In two minutes, both thugs were downed. It took him a split second to realize Damian hadn't moved to help and he turned to face the last man.

He froze at the sight of a detonator in the man's hand.

"You finished early." The Dragons' leader said casually. "I underestimated your speed."

Bruce's eyes narrowed behind the cowl. "You set up the multiple gang wars."

The man shrugged. "It was easy enough to provoke them. And they kept you occupied while I planted this little failsafe." He waved the detonator.

"His name is Aaron Lansing. And his goons distracted me while he left to set the bomb." Damian grumbled.

"No, not just a bomb. Imagine what you can get when you have access to another country's currency printer; something more destructive than the guns you see here."

Bruce mentally calculated the possibilities and didn't like what he came up with. "Nuclear warheads."

Lansing nodded. "When the kid there refused to tell me where his brother is, I decided to do a little search. Years before, I saw the blueprints when Wayne Manor was being rebuilt. I was among the signatories that approved the funds passing from bank to bank. One of your contractors had loose lips." His unremarkable face smiled. "I know the general area where the panic room is, so I placed a warhead near there."

There was a low snarling - Bruce was surprised to find that it was coming from his youngest. Could Damian actually be_ protective _of his older brother?

"What do you want?" Batman's growl had scared many a would-be criminal or a spineless thug or two. Lansing's tactics fell into the latter, but years of shady business deals must have given him a backbone.

"Your boss' fortune. Dealing with Super-Dollars can only go so long before a printer crackdown happens. Poor luck, it goes down just when my suppliers' terms come due." Lansing shrugged, one thumb still on the detonator. "So I asked for a little extension in exchange for a chance to cripple the one vigilante the Blood Dragons failed against."

"Batman." Damian hissed.

Behind the cowl, Bruce's eyes went to his youngest. The boy tilted his head minutely towards the window - the one behind Lansing, and Batman gave a tiny nod in acknowledgement.

Lansing continued without noticing the vigilantes' communication, "What'll it be, Bats? Which of his sons does your boss prefer? The eldest - whom I assume is in the panic room - or the youngest?"

Batman could feel himself smirking as a shadow formed on the other side of the window. "Both."


	8. Batman Again

The shadow outside quickly resolved itself into a familiar red and black costume as Red Robin literally crashed onto Lansing. The scuffle was brief. Lansing was an executive through and through - he hadn't taken any lessons in martial arts or even combat training. Against a well-trained fighter, he didn't stand a chance. He and Red Robin grappled for a while until a small device clattered to the floor.

Damian grabbed it as Red Robin brought Lansing to his feet with both arms locked behind him.

"It's over, Lansing." Batman growled.

"Even if you lock me up, Lenore will still be operational." Lansing spat, blood was trickling down one corner of his mouth and one eye was starting to swell. "I made the Group so I don't have to give it my undivided attention."

"But with you out of the way, Lenore will have no leader to look to. Your money trail can be traced, and your accomplices tracked. It's only a matter of time."

"Not time enough!" There was a snick of metal and Red Robin gasped - then was suddenly shoved onto Bruce.

Batman instinctively caught his partner, glimpsing a dagger in Lansing's hand. Then Damian's leg shot forward and kicked the man's chest. The boy twisted in mid-air, kicking the dagger away with one foot while the other struck the man's temple.

Lansing dropped to the ground, his arms tensing to lunge again but Damian swiftly followed with a knock-out hand chop to the man's neck.

The boy gave a self-satisfied smirk as he told the unconscious gang leader, "You underestimated me. That was your mistake." He turned to Bruce and Tim, the latter clutching at his bleeding arm."You should've checked for hidden weapons, Drake."

"I was busy holding him still." Tim retorted.

"My word."

They all looked up to find Alfred stepping out of the study. "I didn't think you would have contained the violence in the foyer."

"I refuse to let them break any more of my father's possessions." Damian explained, quickly moving to tie up the Blood Dragons. Bruce reached into his belt and pulled out bandages to take care of Tim's injury.

Alfred came over to gently take the bandages from Bruce. "I have taken the liberty of alerting the police. They shall arrive soon."

Bruce stepped back, letting the butler take over. The battle was over and his family was safe now-

He stiffened and glanced around upon realizing something was missing. "Where's Dick?"


	9. Dick Finale

A/N: No more sequel! Gotta leave some space for solo fics, yeah?

* * *

><p>Dick stumbled out of the panic room, prompting Bruce to catch him.<p>

"I'm fine," the acrobat waved off the billionaire's concerned gaze and glared at his youngest brother. "You locked me in the panic room. _Why_ did you have to lock me in the panic room?"

"I expected you to recover faster, Grayson." Damian huffed, his arms crossed and his voice totally unrepentant. "Aggravating your injury in battle does not help matters."

Off to the side and being treated for his injury, Tim spoke to Bruce, "Told you Dick did a great job with him."


End file.
